The Stepdaughter Meets the Dark Side
On a whitewater-rafting trip, a bee stung Kara. I fell out of the raft.
It rained constantly on a camping trip.
On a hiking trip, Greg fell down the mountain.
We accepted these mishaps with good-natured humor. Obstacles were part of being a good sport. Over coming them was an inexpensive price to pay for a good time. Adversity need not mean tragedy. Family teamwork can overcome adversity.
The “stepfamily” experience is not always a negative one.
Usually….
The childhood years turned to adolescence. On a Christmas visit; Mark, my husband wanted to take the kids skiing.
This would be the first time I hesitated to join them. I was an extremely fit fitness professional, but terrified of Alpine Skiing. I went along to keep the holiday spirit.
I was not great, but I was not terrible. In a way, I even liked it. Committing to pursue an activity in which I have no natural talent was a big change in attitude. I tend to do only what I can do well. The slow learning process had its joys, but its heartbreaks were unbearable. Every failed attempt at progress reminded me that I was not the super athlete I thought myself to be. Although I was almost obsessed with skiing, I was over sensitive about my abilities, or lack thereof.
Kara, on the other hand, was a natural. Though she lives in Florida, which is hardly the snow zone, she is an avid horseback rider. There is a definite skill transfer between the two sports.
In March of 2000, Mark took the family to Whistler. We enrolled in Ski E’Spirit, Whistler’s 4-day ski school. By the 5th day, Kara wanted to ski down from the top of Blackcomb. Mark had hurt his knee, so Kara and I went together.
I should have been suspicious about the short lift line. Unfortunately, we hadn’t listened to the weather reports. We descended from the lift into a complete whiteout, with no visibility whatsoever. The heavily falling snow formed intricate patterns of ice on our goggles. Viewing the terrain ahead of us was like looking into a kaleidoscope.
I had planned to take Kara down the cat track that descends around the more challenging trails. But cat tracks are notoriously narrow. Having skied Blackcomb the day before, we knew that the, intermediate trails were quite wide, albeit slightly bumpy. Since we were the only two fools on this part of the mountain, we didn’t have to worry about human collisions.
Summoning up all our courage, we began our slide into the white abyss. We couldn’t see the bumps. We couldn’t plan for them. Fortunately, our innate athleticism allowed us to react with agility to the unseen. The sensation was akin to riding blindfolded on a roller coaster; frightening, yet exhilarating.
Upon reaching the bottom of the mountain, our giddiness drew the attention of everyone in the village. Over dinner, we recounted our tale over and over again. Prior to returning to our condo, I bought Kara a tee shirt that said
“Its hard to be humble when you ski like me.”
This would be the last act of goodwill between us, for a long time.
The next day, we all went skiing together. The trails were ridiculously crowded. I’ve come to realize that crowds instill more fear in me than whiteouts or steep terrain. My skiing becomes defensive, and I revert to beginner skills.
Finishing the trail long after the others left me tense, humiliated and angry with myself.
I burst into rage when Kara remarked:
” Hey, you still snow plow and I don’t!”
It’s unnecessary to describe my reaction. Suffice it to say that it was inappropriate. I did not see my step kids for another 2 years.
Finally, Mark decided that this had gone on too long. He invited Kara up to Boston for the Christmas holiday. As a peace offering, I bought Kara a copy of The Centered Rider, by Sally Swift. Looking through it, I realized why Kara was such a natural skier. If you take away the word “horse,” everything that Swift says in her book can be applied to skiing.
Kara had become highly proficient at horseback riding, reaching instructor status at
age 16. But being 16 meant that she wanted to try the sport that alpine skiers refer to as “The Darkside.” Snow Boarding!
Riding out to Sunday River Maine, I recounted a story about a ski trip Mark and I had taken the year before. Mark, bless him, has a way of thinking that I am better than I really am.. On a trail that was beyond my abilities, I ended up next to an equally terrified 10-year-old boy, who was crying, “My brother is an idiot” “My husband is an idiot” I cried!
The next morning, Kara headed out for her snowboard lesson. Mark and I went skiing. Later, we watched her lesson.
Kara ‘s coming down the mountain. BOOM! She falls. Tries to get up again. BOOM! She’s down again. This goes on for quite awhile.
The next day, she would not let us watch her put her board on.
” GET OUT OF HERE!”
Okay.
Later, Mark asked if she wanted to try to go down a beginner trail. She agreed. But this relatively easy trail was still too challenging. Stuck at the trail’s edge, she turned to me saying, “I guess my dad is an idiot!”
Afterwards, she told me that she now understood why I was sensitive about my ski skills. Although she is fit and athletic, she had no natural talent for boarding. It’s a blow to the ego if you’re considerably coordinated, but find something you cannot do well. Both of our self-images revolved around our view of ourselves as athletically capable people. Yet Kara’s attitude was considerably more mature than mine. She viewed the escapade with humor and irony. Since then, I’ve lightened up. I take minor setbacks less seriously. As a result, I’ve improved significantly.
Since no trip to Sunday River would be complete without a visit to the Grizzly, we headed there for dinner. The “Grizz’ is one of those places that just has a way of making you very happy. They were raffling off a snowboard, but unfortunately we had to leave for the drive back. I told Kara to pick a table that had the 3 kindest looking people. We agreed on one group, and asked if they ski or board. Boarders, yes! We told them why we were giving them our raffle tickets, and their smiles lit up the room.
Jealousy and insecurity are common emotions at all stages of life. Sport, can elicit these feelings. In the sport of life, families are team players, helping each other move beyond these petty emotions.
Sport bridges the generation gap.
The future of the family lies in sport.
